Amber's 69 First Dates - The Art Room

Story by Dissident Love on SoFurry

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#4 of Amber's Stories

Luis is recovering nicely, and he thanks you all for your concern and well-wishes. He wouldn't have changed ANYTHING about the previous date, except for maybe taking an Advil beforehand, and doing some stretches first. Amber, however, isn't quite so forgiving, and she intends to get to the bottom of the situation.


Amber's 69 First Dates

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Art Class Rendezvous

by Dissident Love

All Rights Reserved

January 2011

Obey Me Or Suffer My Wrath

Dear Diary

So, last night's date didn't go, you know, EXACTLY according

to plan, but I think that was my best date so far, since it was,

well, the ONLY DATE I've gone on so far, depending on your

definition of date!

He was SO FUCKING CUTE in his little suit, and he had flowers,

and he hardly spoke English, even after he got the dictionary.

He mostly just sort of, you know, bleated, which is EVEN CUTER

than talking. God, he was just adorable.

Also, either I'm getting better at this, or the boys are getting

stretchier, because HOLY COW, Diary, you should have seen

him! They had to call the paramedics and cut down a TREE

to get him out of there. I thought that panther boy had gotten

big, but Luis totally trumped him.

Mom's armored panties helped for a while, but then I

left them at the Book Barn, and mom's lotion *shudder*

helped for a little bit, but it wasn't formulated for teenagers,

so when I went off, I went off like the fucking space shuttle.

That was a record-breaker for me, and I thought Luis was

going to, you know, not make it, but...

but...

but he said he wants to go out with me again.

Not right away! His mom thinks he was assaulted by ruffians,

so he's not allowed out of the house, but he said he's going to

buy his own copy of the Hyper Love book, and start practicing.

He said he wants to see just what he can do if he puts his mind

do it, but I'm just worried about what I'm going to do to his butt!

Well, not WORRIED, exactly. *wink!*

But the one thing that bugs me is he was sent out with me as

a PRANK! I don't know if it was a prank on him, or a prank on me,

Diary, but it was a prank, and a mean one. You never fuck with

the heartstrings of a hyper.

When we get even, we make sure it's _ memorable _.

The last bell had gone, and the only people left in the school were teachers catching up on their work, janitors trying to undo the damage of the day, and the delinquent detention-sitters, who were staring at the clock with the hopeful, expectant eyes of Death Row inmates.

Sitting at the back, inseparable in class as well as out, Francis, Curly and Knick were tossing a wadded up ball of paper back and forth. They had all been caught smoking during first break that morning out by the woodshop, and they'd all been sentenced together. All day long, they'd been thinking of something other than detention, though.

Amber had been seen around school, smiling pleasantly.

Luis had not been seen around school for days, and no-one knew where he was.

"Dude, do you think anything happened to him?" Knick asked.

"Dude, he went on a date with AMBER, and then he wasn't at school the next day. Or the next day. Or... uh... the next day. Something definitely happened to him," Curly responded.

"You mean..." Francis asked with a worried expression on his face.

They all shifted in their seats in male sympathy.

Knick shook his shaggy equine head. "Nah, if he, you know.... couldn't handle it, there'd have been an announcement or something."

Curly, breaking away from standard literary convention and actually being a sheep with very curly hair, bleated once as well. Most of his head was lost in the white all-around afro he always got at this time of the year. "Yeah, but, I mean, would they come after us? Would we get in trouble for this?"

The third and largest member of the group just shook his head. There was quite a bit of wolf evident in his ancestry, but years of cola and video games had reduced his fearsomeness considerably. "Who knew what happened, except for Luis?"

They nodded again, but Curly scrunched up his eyes. "So... that means if he's ok, then he'd tell them what we did?"

"Yes, Curly."

"So wouldn't it be better if he was-"

"NO, Curly."

"Oh. Right. Dude."

"Dude."

And that was all that needed to be said.

When the clock's arms finally swung around to the magic hour, 4:45pm, Mr. Jiminy tapped the little bell on his desk, and stood up. "All right, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Not if we don't get detention!" came a voice from the back, which was met by derisive laughter.

Mr. Jiminy just smiled his thin, blank smile. "Hope springs eternal, young man. Now go home."

The assembled masses shuffled out of the classroom, the last three easily identified by their matching guilty expressions. They supposed that all they could really do was wait, and hope that Luis was all right. They hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, they told themselves repeatedly in the hopes that someday it might be true; they just wanted to scare the new kid, maybe bug the hyper chick. It was all well and good having hypers be the butt of jokes on sitcoms, but to have one in their school was just wierd!

"Hi, boys," said a passing vixen.

So great was their inner distress at the possibility if being forced to accept responsibility for their actions that it took them several seconds to realize that a cheerleader had just spoken to them. Being boys, the next thought hot on the trail of the first one was that the cheerleader was Cindy, the most popular wet-dream subject matter in all of senior year.

Six eyes acting as a single unit, they turned to watch Cindy walk. The outer slopes of her breasts were easily visible from behind, even past her arms. The white-and-purple school sweater (Go Whitefish!) was stretched so tight they could clearly make out the outline of a black bra beneath. Her orange and white tail swished back and forth, and when she looked over her shoulder and winked, the boys even swallowed nervously in unison.

"Did Cindy just talk to us?"

"I... yes?"

For a moment the only sound was the clicking of her high heels as she neared Corridor B. She paused for a moment, taking a drink from the chrome water fountain. The sight of her bending over, and then lapping slowly at the arcing stream of water very nearly caused Curly to get heatstroke. Crystal droplets still falling from her lips, she lifted her head and smiled. "Are you boys coming or not?"

She was around the corner and gone before they could draw enough breath to respond. The boys shared a glance, which could be roughly translates as 'Dude, this is how porno movies start!' and tried to sprint casually after her, which is quite difficult to do, particularly in groups.

"Dude, she was talking to me."

"Dream on, dude."

"Dude!"

An orange-and-white fluffy tail was vanishing into the art room, long deserted at this hour. Shoving eachother out of the way and generally slowing themselves down, they managed to reach the door together just as it clicked shut.

"Dude, quit pushing!"

"You were pushing me, dude!"

"You got in the way of my arm!"

There was some confusion when three hands tried to turn the handle at the same time, but eventually Francis by sheer virtue of mass managed to shoulder the other two out of the way and successfully work the knob. He stepped into the dark room first, followed by the smaller but no less excited schoolboys.

"Hello?"

"Why are the lights off?"

"Dude!"

Curly closed the door behind him, assuming that far awesomer stuff was likely to happen in the dark. Faint light filtered through the translucent little square of glass set into the door, and from around the edges of the shuttered windows. They could see a couple desks, and easels, and shelves, and other art stuff they generally ignored. Knick had quite enjoyed making things out of clay, but it didn't do to seem too interested in anything that might be construed as education, so he'd dropped Art in favor of Woodshop.

"How are you boys doing?" came the sultry vixen's voice. They saw a shadow move in the distance, and they headed slowly towards it.

Knick gulped audibly. "I'm fine. How YOU doin'?" Curly just groaned, and Francis chuckled.

Cindy, on the other hand, laughed as though it were the very height of humor. "Oh, you boys," she said, voice coming from much farther to the left now. "Always one thing on your minds. Or maybe you've got two things on your minds, now..."

They chuckled nervously, not really feeling in charge of the situation. There was a faint rustling from somewhere in the room, and the sounds of breathing. Francis's brows furrowed... were there two people here?

"If you turned the light on, we could get a better look at those two things," Francis said, taking a stab at what he thought was romantic gallantry.

"Not yet, boys, not yet. A girl has to get properly ready for a... special night, you know."

Knick was positive he could hear two sets of lungs breathing, but when Curly started to hyperventilate it became harder to track them. What was going on here?

There were more footsteps. Francis was trying to close the distance between himself and the deliciously buxom vixen, Curly was trying to remain conscious, but some little presence in the back of Knick's mind was waving its' arms, shouting and gesturing towards the door. Something wasn't right here, and unlike his two cohorts, he had enough short-term memory to consider that, just maybe, this had something to do with the whole Amber/Luis situation.

Unfortunately for him (depending on your level of perversion), he ignored this voice.

There was a faint snapping sound in the depths of the room, from the opposite direction Cindy's voice seemed to be coming from. He could also hear Francis and Curly's heads whip around when the vixen's unmistakable giggle bubbled up beside them, a little too quickly.

In what can generously be considered the smartest act of the evening, Curly querulously asked "Is there someone else in here?"

The shuffling footsteps paused, and the room became silent, the particularly recognizable silence that only comes from several people trying very hard not to make any noise whatsoever. It was all the confirmation Francis needed. He cracked his knuckles.

"Dude, what's going on?"

"Is there another chick in here?"

"Ooo! Another chick!"

"You guys are fucking idiots," he muttered, trying for the second smartest position as well. "Cindy, this isn't funny anymore. Hit the lights and we'll sort this out."

A shuffle. "It's not... quite time yet, I don't think," the vixen mused out loud, making it sound like a question. Knick was heading back towards the door, now able to see the thin thread of light creeping in from the floor, but that vanished before he could take more than two steps and be bashed into a desk with his knees. He cursed, and sighed.

"Look, we..."

"It's ok, Cindy," came a higher, more delicate voice, and everyone jumped. Francis and Curly had just caught up with the plot and were expecting to find other, bigger boys in the room, but the feminine voice was a surprise. It was a sweet soprano, and even sounded cute. In fact, it almost sounded...

"Feline," Francis gulped nervously.

The door squeaked open, and all three heads swiveled in time to see Cindy, bushy foxtail no longer blocking the crack of light, skittering out through the opening. Her head popped back in, preceded by a significant fraction of a moment by her bosom, and a tiny hand flicked on the light switch. "Good luck!" She said with a chipper wave, and vanished.

There was a click from the lock.

Francis, Curly and Knick blinked under the harsh overhead fluorescents. The art class seemed empty, large round tables scattered haphazardly and every available surface covered in little pots of paint, brushes, clay, glue, and the other standard accoutrements of high school expressionism everywhere. The windows were shuttered, the chairs were stacked up against the walls, and the display case curtain was closed.

It was, however, also breathing.

The curtain was swaying back and forth, slowly and rhythmically. Francis, several braincells ahead of the mob, was inching backwards.

"Is someone there?" Knick asked, and Curly slapped his forehead.

A tiny gold-and-cream-colored paw reached around and tugged the curtain aside, and no-one except perhaps Knick was surprised to see Amber standing there, leaning against the display case, in what can politely be described as an advanced state of arousal. One leg was slung over the back of a chair in order to help prop her up, keep her balanced, and give her hyperactive sac sufficient room. She waved bashfully and giggled.

"Can we talk for a minute?" she asked, hands returning to their gentle stroking motions. Her rich, deep crimson canine shaft bobbed and swayed in front of her, more than two feet long and thicker than her thigh. The pads of her paws made little squeaking sounds, and the boys realized she was wearing the largest condom any of them had ever seen, completely sheathing her size from tip to base, where it still seemed to have a little but more rolled up. Her sac swayed back and forth, looking for all the world like a pair of fuzzy white watermelons.

The boys nodded slowly in time with her strokes.

"Good," she said, and giggled again. "Now, I suppose you know why I've called you here, right?"

Rub. Squeak. Nods.

"Poor Luis. I'm used to parents being pissed off at me, but they were pissed off in a totally different language, and that's WAY scarier! It was only yesterday they agreed not to charge me with assault. Did you know that?"

Rub. Squeak. Head shakes.

"Well, it's true. He's such a sweetie, in his little suit, with his little flowers, and his little horns, and his cute little tush... well, I'm sure you know all that. That's why you told him to ask me out. Right?"

There was some uncomfortable shifting of feet as they pondered the relative sizes of Luis's body parts, and her own. They nodded.

Her hands started to move a little bit faster now. Francis had scooted backwards enough to reach the door, and his hands were nervously trying the knob. No matter how obvious it was that the door was locked, he wasn't about to give up now. Curly was panting heavily, once again overheating in his thick shaggy coat, and Knick was very studiously looking at anything except the spectacularly overendowed kitteh.

"It seems to me that you all owe him a sincere apology. He doesn't agree with me, actually... he wanted to THANK you guys for introducing us! Isn't that adorable? I thought it was. He's pretty happy with how things went, but me, I'm not so soft-hearted. I may be a feline, but I've got enough pup in me to make me a serious bitch when I'm in the mood."

Rub. Squeak. Nods.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her breath caught, her eyes closed, and she bit her lower lip. She hunched over, her entire body quivering for a moment, and the three sets of eyes that were still open widened in unison at the sight of the obviously heavy-duty condom stretching around her canid member. It throbbed, swelling several inches longer and forcing her fingers apart, followed a moment later by a soft, silky sound as her testes expanded by half again.

Amber panted for a second, caught her breath, and looked up with bright, sparkling and mischevious eyes. "As I was saying," she purred, "I think you owe him something. An apology wouldn't be enough, in my mind. ANYONE can apologize, but I can't make you mean it. No, what we need is some sort of atonement. I could get even with you, I suppose... fair's fair and all that, but as frisky as I can get, I don't think I could handle THREE of you in a row."

Her shaft was still growing, slowly but surely. The rolled-up cuff of the condom was now about six inches from the base of her shaft, and she quickly rolled it down again as the first curves of her burgeoning knot appeared. She tugged up on herself, and the trio of frightened males saw the latex-clad tip was now level with the tufted tops of her ears.

"No, what WE need is a way to really... ooh, to really drive this home with all three of you at once."

Rub. Squeak. Uncomfortable shuffling of feet and clenching of tail muscles.

"Oh, not like that, boys, not like that," she continued with a wink. Another stroke, another inch. The condom was now making noises even when she wasn't touching it as it strained against her growing anatomy. She moaned softly again, sliding her hands up her belly, across her breasts, and stretching her arms up above her head. Her left leg slowly lost contact with the plastic chair it was slung over as her sac redoubled it's efforts, looking for all the world like a pair of creamy white beachballs. Francis was now yanking on the doorknob, with no success.

"But I'm not cruel, boys... I'd never force anyone to do anything, and I'd certainly never dream of TRICKING someone into doing anything. In fact, I'm going to give you a choice."

The trio paused, ears pricking up at the distant promise of hope and redemption.

"The longer I, oooh.... the longer I stay aroused, the bigger I get. Luis found that out the... oooh, the hard way, so to speak." Her words were punctuated with soft groans from her throat and creaks from her latex protection. "It's really hard for me to finish myself off... oooooh, tiny hands, you know, and there's just so much of me. So the question I have for you, boys, is how quickly do you want out of here?"

Rub. Squeak. Nervous swallowing.

"That's not much of a choice," Francis said, finding his voice again.

Amber shrugged, shaft swaying in front of her and threatening to tip her over. "You conned a poor boy who didn't speak English into nearly getting hypered right into intensive care. I think I'm being more than fair here. Besides... I'm wearing protection."

She patted the condom, which was still keeping her completely contained. Luis, bedridden for a few days at the Hyper Care Clinic, had ample time to surf the internet, and had found a local supplier of hyper 'relationship aids'. They were $3.99 each, or four for $12.99, so she'd bought the four pack. After one test in the bathroom at home she had deemed them worth the cost, and now intended to really push the limits stated on the box.

Her hands flailed wildly at the air for a moment before she was able to grip the wooden edge of the display case to regain her balance. She leaned back, stretching her legs out a little bit wider in order to give her still-ballooning balls more space. The distance between their pale lower slopes and the linoleum floor was now down to mere inches, and she couldn't wait until they could finally rest on the ground and take the strain off of her hips.

"Tick tock, boys," she said, licking her lips. She knew she was more than three feet long now, probably closing in on four, and beyond that their guess was as good as hers. "Cindy's outside just WAITING to unlock the door."

They turned and saw a little hand wave at them through the tempered glass square.

They turned back to Amber, who had grown in the meantime.

"I'm in," Curly said.

Knick and Francis looked at him in shock, and he glared back defiantly. "What? Fuck you guys, she's hot."

"Gay-y-y," Knick said under his breath, but Francis just shook his head resignedly.

Amber managed to blush cutely when Curly approached her. It was one of the only times in her life someone had publicly expressed a positive comment about her appearance, and she hadn't expected it to come from one of these boys. She eyed him a little more appraisingly as he reached out, thick fingers very carefully gripping and supporting her badly-cantilevered doghood. For a long moment he just held her and stared, and she was about to ask if he planned to do anything when he stepped forward, hands sliding down the squeaky-smooth shaft, and she squealed with delight.

Knick made a strangled noise, equal parts fear and disgust, and Francis started grappling with the doorknob again in defiance of all available evidence that it would actually open.

"You really.... oooooh, think I'm hot?"

Eyes wide and glazed, jaw slack, hands seemingly moving of their own accord, Curly managed to nod.

Amber tittered and gripped the base of the condom where her knot was really starting to make an appearance, making sure the latex was securely anchored behind it. "You're not so bad yourself, you know. Maybe... you know, you'd like to get a coffee sometime?"

As odd as it was to be asked out by someone you were actively jacking off, Curly took it with more grace than she'd expected. "Bluh," he said, nodding again when he realized that it was a somewhat ambiguous word.

"DUDE!"

"Shut the fuck up, Knick."

Everyone jumped when Amber suddenly cried out, but she put a hand up to her mouth and giggled with embarrassment. "Sorry... the floor is really cold!"

Curly leaned back and glanced down, eyes ready to fall out of his head, and confirmed that, yes, her sac was now resting quite comfortably on the black-and-white checkered linoleum. Francis was yanking on the doorknob with both hands, and Knick was gibbering quietly to himself.

The bobbing, tapered glans nuzzled up against Curly's shaggy white afro, causing Amber to giggle uncontrollably. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, that tickles," she gasped. They were both breathing hard now, Curly from the exertion of his arms, Amber from trying to keep the blood pumping to her swollen anatomy. There were very few obese hypers, as simply becoming aroused was an aerobic and powerlifting workout by itself!

The outlines of the pulsing veins were now visible through the rapidly thinning latex sheath, and the tighter it got the more sensitive she found she was becoming. She didn't know why boys were always complaining about condoms, this was almost as good as the real thing. Her knot surged beneath her hands, expanding from the size of a volleyball to that of a good-sized Hallowe'en pumpkin, glossy and shiny beneath it's protective layer.

"Oh, you're.... ooohhmmmm, good at this," she wheezed, and she wasn't lying. Curly had strong fingers, and no-one had ever been so firm with her before. Really, they had been quite helpless and she had been trying to be as gentle as possible, but even as hard as he was gripping, knuckles white with strain, her badly overpressurized tendons were more than strong enough to resist. "Maybe... a... bit... harder..."

Curly had to inch backwards, Amber's shaft passing five feet, and moments later passing her own height in length. She was now at the mercy of her mass, sac swollen to full as to be lifting her butt off of the wooden ledge of the display case now, forcing her legs out wide.

"How much bigger are you going to GET?" Francis cried in a near panic. "I thought you said this was FASTER!"

"Ohhhhhhh, hon, this is faster," she moaned through clenched teeth, "because I'm.... almost... there..."

"Thank God," Knick mumbled from under a table somewhere.

"Ducking and covering?"

"Do you have a better plan?"

Curly's fluffy mane was slowly being matted with perspiration, but he tried to keep up with Amber's desire. Even when he lay awake at night, thinking about what must have happened to Luis, she'd not been this big! He'd tried to tell himself that herms were gross, ESPECIALLY hypers, but a part of him just kept whispering 'But tell me you don't want to give it a try?'

Amber dug her claws into her knot, not penetrating the specially reinforced compounds of the hyper-approved condom, growling a throaty growl as only a feline in heat can. Curly's eyes bulged in amazement when he saw her knot double in size, then triple. It looked like a blood-red beachball, and he couldn't even concieve of the sort of person who could handle that and survive. It was so large her breasts were only just barely visible above it, jiggling as her entire body vibrated like a violin string.

"You... might..."

Her sac seemed to tense, drawing upwards, and then creaked with the speed of it's expansion, forcing her thighs apart and lifting her body up several more inches.

"... want... to..."

Her shaft became steel-hard under his fingers, he was hardly even denting her skin anymore. He had the unique privilege of being the first person to see the underside of her doghood at the moment of climax, urethral passage distending like a firehose, the front of the bulge moving rapidly towards him, towards the tip of her mighty endowment.

"...run."

Curly's head turned, his vision filling with the view of her cock, and filling more by the moment, but his sense of self-preservation took pity on him and assumed control of his legs. Amber, on the other hand, was holding back with every fibre of her being, partly to try and give Curly a chance to move, but also because she wanted to give all three boys a show they'd never forget. Bigger and bigger her testes swelled with seed, higher and higher they lifted her legs, and she could feel the glass display case sliding along her back as she rose. She could hardly believe she'd stood on the cusp for this long without erupting, but that thought was short-lived.

She wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream as the thunderbolt of her orgasm ripped through her body, but she knew there were still a few people in the school, and she didn't want anyone to get caught... yet. Lower lip clamped securely between her dainty fangs, she put Curly in mind of a motorcycle being revved far too far into the red. Even as he scrambled backwards he was still trying to gauge the size of each tremendous, trembling teste. Four feet? Five? He didn't care, he just knew it was simultaneously one of the most erotic and worrying sights he'd ever seen.

Her back arched, her feet twitched, and the great shaft bobbed once high into the air, and with a speed that shocked everyone, especially her, the latex-clad shaft bulged obscenely with the first explosion, and was almost instantly transformed from a black, glossy column pushing six feet long to a white sphere nearly six feet across. Most of her knot was lost to the creamy orb of the condom-balloon, but it was keeping the base of the prophylactic securely anchored.

"Fwah," Curly managed, before the wondrous milky mass expanded again, and again, and again, each time accompanied by a muffled caterwaul of ecstasy. It rest heavily on the ground, hardly distorting at all from the pressure within, but still it grew. Another surge, and it started to shove art tables out of the way.

Curly had time to notice that her sac had not yet shrunk even the slightest before he could no longer see Amber at all around the inflating latex sheath.

"SOMEONE!" Francis yelled, pounding on the door, but Cindy just kept waving a tiny foxpaw through the little square of glass. Knick seemed to be praying under one of the tables, and Francis figured out which one it was when the impossibly large, alabaster globe shoved up against another table, and the volume suddenly increased, and was silenced.

The first of the cheap foam ceiling tiles slid along the outer slopes as Amber's outpouring finally filled the room bottom-to-top, and began to expand with greater speed out in all directions. It quivered under the tension of keeping the countless gallons contained, finally shoving all of the inconveniently-placed tables and shelves up against the walls. Francis had to dart to one side to avoid clipping his shins on one, and for a moment he held up his hands against the advancing wall, but with a helpless sigh he lowered them again.

"I suppose I des-"

His voice was muffled and then cut off in short order as he became just another object pinned between the colossal seed-filled condom and the walls of the art class. It was warm, and surprisingly comfortable, he had to admit, like a vertical waterbed. He became increasingly worried when the pressure kept increasing and the thought of smothering crossed his mind, but slowly, too slowly for his tastes, the rising force tapered off. His feet were several inches from the ground, and he could move his fingers if he tried, but he was stuck as securely as a mosquito in a honey jar.

Cindy peeked in the little window again, and saw only a smooth, white surface.

"Damn, girl," she said to herself as she headed through the hallways to the administration area, "I didn't know you had it in you! Not THAT much, at any rate."

The little cubicle-offices were devoid of life, but the lights were still on, and she maneuvered her bosomy bulk through to the vice-principals office. Before puberty had laid siege to her figure, Cindy had been known as quite the little extra-curricular nerd, being part of the AV Club and Chess Club and the Theatre Club. There was still a lot of call for her in those clubs (mostly from the males), but cheerleading and more popular social events took up most of her spare time. She did, however, still remember one of the little unimportant secrets from her time helping out with school events and fundraisers.

She opened the little sliding dumbwaiter-like door that had always confused students who noticed it, just to the side of the vice-principal's desk, and beyond it was a dim, shadowy space. She poked her head in a little further, shoved a few pieces of paper out of the way and tried to get her eyes to focus. The inside of the display case was rattling very faintly. Was she still...?

"Yup," she said to herself, finding the outline of Amber's tail pressed up against the outside of the display case. Cindy reached out, flicked the little metal clasp on the case, and squeaked in surprise when Amber tumbled through backwards. Like some sort of cuddly Shoggoth, the straining bulk of the condom squeezed in after her, but stopped after a foot or so.

Amber lay on her back, staring up at Cindy with a dazed expression on her face. "I... I think... I... whoa, ok, one sec... ok, I think I'm done..."

Cindy tried to wrap her mind around the scene, and gave up. There was no point trying to understand what Amber's body could do, she knew that now. "Sweetie, you're a miracle, you know that?"

"I can't feel my toes."

"That's ok."

The vixen was glad to see that Amber's burgeoning bulges had gone back to almost normal, volleyball-sized testes visible beneath the wobbling condom that seemed to throb like the tides. Amber gripped the base of the latex covering, and began to slide it over her knot which had receded to a much more manageable size. She squeaked every time there was a gush of seed flowing back onto to her lap, but eventually she worked it up her shaft, freeing her. She twisted the handful of latex, and with deft fingers tied it off.

The girls sat there for a moment, Cindy's bosom blocking most of the light from the vice-principal's office, Amber wheezing from the afternoon's exertions. The tied-off condom continued to jiggle and sway from the motions and currents within, dripping like a leaky faucet, but it held.

"Do you think I got through to them?" the kitteh asked when she finally emerged into the VPs office, tugging her skirt back down and hoping he didn't notice the little drips and droplets she was leaving everywhere. She still bulged, but only a little but more than average, and she knew she'd be back to normal by the time they got home.

"Sweetie, they'll think twice before they even breathe again, I think," Cindy responded, still trying to comprehend how this little feline had managed to fill the ENTIRE art room to the point that she swore the walls in the corridor were curved outwards slightly. That little goat boy had endured THAT?

They walked back out, turning off the lights as they went. Amber was mostly thinking about how hungry she was, and how that was the best four dollars she had EVER spent, and Cindy had a thoughtful look on her face. A girl like that... The cheerleader knew what the locker-room talk had been lately, and knew that Amber's name had been mentioned more than once, and not just by the boys. The girls had been friends for years. Would she even consider it?

Amber dropped back a step and hooked her arm around Cindy's, and they shared a smile. "Thanks for helping me with this," she said softly, wondering if she'd gone too far. The last she saw of Curly, he'd been grinning up against the paint cabinet, and she dearly hoped that at the very least he enjoyed the experience. She decided to bake him cookies, and leave them at his locker in the morning.

Cindy leaned down and kissed her shorter friend on the forehead. "Hon, I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

On the way out of the school, Cindy pulled her cel phone out of her cleavage and sent a quick text message to Mr Stachowski, the school janitor.

Someone left a bit of a mess in the art class.